


Not Enough Options [The Selection AU]

by PixiePercent



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Selection Fusion, F/M, MCU AU, Marvel References, marvel AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 13:48:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20009305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PixiePercent/pseuds/PixiePercent
Summary: It was as if she was always running out of options, so she chose the lesser of two evils. Besides, isn’t her choice what most people, her loved ones, wanted? But meeting him made her realize that she was far luckier. He lived in a gilded palace, grew up without going hungry but in spite of that, he would always be left wanting.





	Not Enough Options [The Selection AU]

**Author's Note:**

> “What is really not fair about life is the fact that we have to pay the cost of our weaknesses which we didn’t chose nor we had the option to refuse. Apart from that life is very fair.” 
> 
> ― Sameh Elsayed

Y/N would forget that she was now a citizen of Sokovia. So-ko-via, not A-me-ri-ca, she’d remind herself whenever she’d write down the name of her former country. The United States was a great country but the bombs and soldiers of the Nazis, fueled further by those who fed into the propaganda of hatred and discontent, ruined its ideals and values.

All that’s left were ashes, tears, and bleak memories.

She crumpled yet another piece of paper. Since when was writing to her best friend this exhausting? Oh, right.

Since he stopped replying to her letters.

She couldn’t blame him, she supposed. He signed up to take part in the war, to carry a gun and kill if need be. Of course, he couldn’t let his comrades shoot at Hitler and his army while he wrote back to his ‘ol best friend in cursive about his the blood on his hands.

No, sir.

Her friend would want to write back but was he even getting her letters? Did he even know which address to send his replies to? And why was she even writing? It was pointless. What did she hope to gain from such an activity?

Distraction? Hope? Pointless.

Hope she had plenty of before they were forced to flee the place she grew up in. To leave the goats, cows, pigs and the dogs...even the dogs.

She blinked away a tear upon remembering her Jack, the stray she and Steve found when they were teenagers. He grew up from a scrawny little pup to a rambunctious dog who’d alternately sleep between her and Steve’s houses. At first, Steve’s Ma Sarah forbade the arrangement as her son had asthma but as boy and dog grew up, both grew stronger and healthier.

Puberty had been good to Steven Grant Rogers and Sarah somehow accepted that Jack was the cause of it. Soon, the woman had adopted more dogs and even a cat.

Bullet had shot straight into her lap with a meow right after she and her parents were shoved into the car along with Sarah, and right before the doors were shut closed.

“No, the dogs. Please! The cows, pigs...the goats.”

They ignored her tears and pleas. Up to this day, Y/N could still hear the howls of those that were left behind. 

That’s when she realized that no, she wasn’t writing because of hope. It had become a habit, senseless but somehow calming. It kept her sane in a land where she and the rest of her family, including Sarah, were safe and secure from bombs, bullets, and ambushes.

“Y/N?” Sarah knocked on the door, even when it was already halfway open.

“Come in.”

A gray ball of fur sauntered in without warning, stretched, and approached her. The woman followed with a shake of her head, a “you rascal”, looked around, and then focused on her. “Oh, darling. My poor little thing.”

“Stop it,” she squawked. The woman grinned; the same grin her son has. “Am not a kid anymore.”

Bullet only plopped down on her feet and purred.

“In some ways, you and Steve to me are. Pretty sure that’s how your mother sees you too.” Sarah leaned down to ruffle Y/N’s hair.

“Please, don’t remind me.” She rolled her eyes. “Last night she insisted on singing me to sleep. What am I? Ten?”

“We heard you crying and screaming last night. We…” Sarah stopped and took her hands, rubbing thumbs across the backs of it. “We all miss the dogs. Even the farm animals.”

Y/N looked down, face burning. “Am sorry, I...I try to close the door but can’t help feeling that if I do…”

“Bullet wouldn’t be locked in here, Y/N. Neither will you.”

“It’s my fault---”

“No, it’s not. Stop punishing yourself for this war, for the things that happened. Besides, you were able to get them out, right? The rescuers didn’t just allow them inside the car. You did what you cou---”

Sarah broke off with a cough that turned into more coughs and a couple more.

“How long have you had that cough for? Two weeks?”

“Only ten days.”

“Sarah, only ten? Well, give it a few more days and it’ll already be two weeks. You’re exactly like your son!”

The woman glared at her and she smiled . “Am sorry. I see so much of Steve in you and you both, well, annoy me.”

“Not in the way you and that wretched child of mine give me and your mother gray hairs. You two will be the death of us.”

She shrugged, before smirking at the window. “Stevie and I are quite the duo, aren’t we?”

“You bet we are,” a new voice answered. No, not exactly new; her head whipped around so fast towards her door. She would've toppled off her stool into the hissing Bullet had Steve failed to catch her.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm currently writing chapter 2 so to anyone who's interested, I hope to upload it with the next week.


End file.
